


The Masquerade

by Krank



Series: Hell Bound [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angels, Demons, Humor, Hunting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Supernatural - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krank/pseuds/Krank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Something in Aurora, Illinois is killing women and framing their husbands for the crime. Harry and Niall race to find the monster, though with it one step ahead of them, one hunter soon falls prey to it's trickery.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Based loosely on themes from Supernatural.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a big one. Thank you for your patience! :)  
> Please read the other parts of the Hell Bound Series if you haven't already! It's a continuation.

 

“Cup your left hand under your right to steady it. Think of it as an extension of your body. Now, relax your shoulders and pull the trigger.”

A resounding crack rang through the open field, and one of the lonely beer bottles on Paul’s fence shattered in to pieces. There was an enthusiastic cry.

“ _I did it_!” Niall shouted, leaping up in the air. As a result, the handgun he was clutching swung around dangerously.

“Jesus Christ, Niall!” Harry yelled, ducking as Niall turned towards him. “When you’re not using it, point it toward the ground! And for God’s sake, put the safety on!”

Niall shrunk back, quickly clicking the gun’s safety. “Sorry. Got a bit excited.”

Unable to sleep, Harry had taken Niall out on to the back of Paul’s property to watch the sunrise. Then, in typical hunter fashion, he’d decided to teach Niall to shoot. To his surprise, the blond wasn’t half bad.

Harry took the gun from his boyfriend and tucked it in to the back of his trousers, then pulled him in for a kiss. Niall giggled.

“I just want to shoot more things!” He sighed.

“Hey, now,” Harry pushed him back so he could look him in the eye. “I don’t want you to ever pull the trigger unless you are one hundred percent sure of what you’re doing. You need to be confident about it, and realize the consequences.”

“Alright, alright,” Niall scoffed. “I’m not twelve.”

“You may as well be with this whole hunting business.” Harry pulled him in again and they headed back in the direction of the house.

“Fuck, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

\------

Upon entering the foyer, they could smell the wonderful smells of breakfast cooking: bacon, eggs, toast, and rich coffee. Paul imported the good stuff from Columbia. He wasn’t extravagant in the least, but the man could appreciate a good cup of coffee.

“Morning!” Harry called, pulling Niall in to the kitchen. Paul was at the stove and Louis was sitting at the table, looking rather miserable. “Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Harry asked, pulling a chair out for Niall.

“Oh, no one,” Louis grumbled. “I just woke this morning to the sound of gunfire at the ass crack of dawn, having just finally fallen in to a fitful sleep after listening to my adopted brother slam his boyfriend against his headboard repeatedly for over an hour.”

Niall began to choke on his orange juice, Harry reaching over to slap his back in aid.

“Louis-“

“You do realize we share a wall, right?” Louis asked, stabbing a piece of fried ham with his fork rather violently.

“Look, it’s unfortunate that you experienced that,” Harry began, leaning back against his chair and settling an arm around Niall’s shoulders. “But I can’t say that I’m all that sorry for it.”

Louis gasped. “Paul!” He yelled across the room. “Niall was supposed to have his _own_ room. They broke the _rules_ -“

“Oh shut it, Louis,” Paul grumbled, coming towards the table with a massive plate of bacon and eggs. “Harry’s a grown man, he can do what he wants. If I remember correctly, you are also a grown man, so grow up.”

“Well then excuse me while I start having sleepovers as well!” Louis countered, angrily chewing his food.

There was a long pause, during which Niall looked between Paul and Harry. Suddenly, the two burst in to fits of laughter, setting their forks down noisily on their plates. Niall remained perplexed.

“Fuck,” Paul wiped his eyes. “As soon as you find someone desperate enough to have a sleepover with, you let me know. Hell, I’ll even light some candles for you.”

Harry threw his head back, laughing harder.

Niall couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Louis.

“You two are a couple of bastards, you know that?” Louis grabbed his plate and stomped in to the living room, and everyone heard the television click on.

“You two really need to be nicer to him,” Niall reprimanded, shoveling more eggs in to his mouth. “He’s been through a lot recently, you know.”

Harry wiped his eyes and placed his hand on Niall’s knee, squeezing it affectionately. “This is why I love you, you know. Your big heart.”

Niall looked over at Harry expectantly, knowing full well that a sweet compliment wasn’t his style at all. “And?”

“And your sweet ass.”

Niall snorted with laughter, but still felt the little butterflies stir in his stomach. It had barely been two days since Harry had told him he loved him, though every time since it continued to make Niall feel all gooey inside.

Paul suddenly pointed his fork at each of them as he chased his breakfast with a mouthful of coffee. “Seriously, though, I know we had a laugh about it, but for real, you two need to quiet down a bit.”

\------

Niall was in his own room changing when there was a knock on his door. When he opened it, he found Harry leaning against the doorframe, wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs and a towel draped over his shoulder. He looked _delicious_.

“So, I’m just about to hop in the shower. Care to save water and shower together?”

Niall was about to answer when there was a shout from the other end of the hallway. “NO!” Louis stuck his head out of his bedroom door. “For the love of all that is holy, have a bloody shower by yourself!” They heard his door slam.

Harry stared after his brother, and then turned back to Niall, looking extremely put out.

“You’re a big boy, surely I can trust you to wash yourself?” Niall asked, leaning in to kiss him.

“But who’s going to clean all of my important bits?” Harry whined, nuzzling Niall’s ear.

“Oh, stop it!” Niall shoved him backwards. “Go bathe yourself. I’ll deal with the drama queen down the hall.”

Harry sauntered off towards the upstairs bathroom, pouting like a child. Niall, in turn, finished dressing himself and made the journey to Louis’ bedroom door. He knocked lightly and called out to the older boy.

There was no response. Niall worried that Louis was angrier than he had originally thought. Niall tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Against his better judgment, he let himself in.

Louis’ room was a _mess_. Niall knew first hand that boys could be downright vile creatures, but this was an entirely new level of chaos. There were clothes everywhere, as well as a collection of dishes and food wrappers. He had posters on the wall of superheroes, which Niall suspected had been from when he was growing up. Niall had noticed something similar in Harry’s room, and suspected that Paul hadn’t touched their rooms since they began to go out on the road by themselves. It was heart-warming.

One thing in particular that Niall noticed was that Louis wasn’t even _in_ his room, which was silly, because he had clearly slammed the door moments before. It was then that Niall noticed the window, which opened on to the roof over the front porch.

“Hello?” He poked his head out, seeing Louis perched a few feet away.

Louis glanced over his shoulder. “I would consider this breaking and entering.”

“I didn’t break anything!” Niall snapped, struggling to get himself out of the window and on to the roof. The sun was bright, and the view was beautiful. Paul had a gorgeous piece of land. The acreage was surrounded by trees, making it feel like a little piece of paradise.

“So what brings you to my humble abode?” Louis asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Niall got right to the point as he sat down beside him. “I have a feeling that you really don’t like me all that much. I’m sorry that you feel that way… And if there’s something that I can do-“

“I don’t hate you, Niall.” Louis cut him off. “There’s a lot of things that I hate in this world, but you certainly aren’t one of them.”

Niall felt relieved. “So what is it, then? What’s been bothering you?”

Louis was quiet for a moment, picking at a shingle beside him. “It’s just hard getting used to having you around. It’s… It’s always just been me, Harry and Paul. We were all each other had, besides the occasional ally. I never thought Harry would be the type to settle down-“

“Louis-“

He waved his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean that you’re going to get hitched and have a house with a picket fence. What I mean is that you just make him so happy. When I showed up in Gold Canyon, I didn’t know what I would find, but I certainly wasn’t expecting him to be living with someone. I was hesitant at first. One thing you learn pretty quickly as a hunter is not to get close to people, and Harry knows that. So when I showed up and there was you… I was just so worried for him. Things like that never end well.”

“It wasn’t supposed to end well, actually,” Niall replied. “I woke up four nights ago to find Harry packing his bags. That’s how I found out about everything. He was just going to walk away and go save your life, but I got in the way.”

Louis shook his head. “You didn’t get in the way, Niall. I’m… I’m sort of glad you stood up to him and made him tell you the truth. Even though it’s ultimately changed your life, I’ve never seen Harry so happy. He used to be so withdrawn. He’d crack a joke now and then, and he had a very dark sense of humor, but with you… He shines now.” Louis turned to Niall and smiled.

“Thanks, Lou,” Niall leaned over and pulled him in to a hug. “I want to learn everything I can and help you two. I know it’s going to take time, but… I just feel like I belong here. I haven’t felt that way in ages.”

“Harry was telling me about your… you know, your old boyfriend,” Louis said awkwardly.

Niall sighed. “Yeah. That was sort of a train wreck, wasn’t it?”

Louis shrugged. “Everything happens for a reason.”

They were cast in to silence, watching the trees sway in the breeze along the forest line as Niall tried not to think about the man that had left him. He had done well keeping him out of his mind, and he wanted it to stay that way. He’d spent an entire year of his life trying to mend his broken heart and find an answer for ‘why’, jumping between anger and deep sadness.

It had taken only two months for everything to change after Harry roared in to Niall’s life like a runaway train. Niall had been swept along for the ride, and though Harry had lied to him and strung him along, when it all came to a head Niall didn’t want to go back to the way he’d been. He didn’t want to fall back down in to his misery and say goodbye to the man that had made him so infinitely happy for those fleeting weeks, and so he’d demanded he be given the option, even if that option was to face evil he’d never imagined existed…

_Like vampires._

“How are _you_ doing, Louis?” Niall asked, changing the subject. “You know, after the whole thing in Seattle.”

The shorter boy sighed, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “I’m alright, I guess. Still feel a little weird. I can remember everything vividly, which wasn’t what I was expecting. I was hoping that it would become sort of like a dream to me, but instead it’s like a movie playing over and over in my head. I can still smell Harry’s blood; I can still feel my fangs… It’s a little too real.”

“I’m sorry,” Niall said quietly.

“What have you got to be sorry for? You saved us all!” Louis chuckled, his smile a bit forced.

“I feel as if that was a bit of a fluke on my part. Lucky break, I guess.” Niall felt his face flush.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You may not know much about hunting, but you’ve got an instinct in you.” Louis ruffled his hair.

Niall felt a little spark of hope at the compliment. The only thing he’d ever considered himself _good_ at was playing the guitar. He was all right in school, and could kick a football around no problem, but he always felt that he lacked natural talent. Up until a few months ago, he’d considered himself terrible at relationships as well. Which reminded him…

“Why did Harry and Paul laugh at you downstairs when you mentioned, you know, _sleepovers_?”

Louis’ smile fell, and was replaced by a rather uncomfortable look. “It’s nothing. They were just being annoying.”

Niall frowned. “Well, if I’m honest, I think you’re quite a catch. You’re cute, and you’ve got really quick humor. Shouldn’t be hard at all to charm a lady.”

Louis grimaced.

“Or… A gentleman? _Are you gay?_ ” Niall gasped rather obnoxiously.

“Shut up!” Louis scoffed, looking out at the fields. “I don’t really know, alright? Girls are really pretty and lovely, but… Boys are fit sometimes too, you know? I don’t really have the experience-“

“Oh my God, are you a _virgin_?” Niall cut him off, voice jumping a couple of octaves.

“Jesus, would you stop?” Louis snapped. “Let me finish what I’m trying to say! I’ve pretty much been a hunter since I was six months old, blondie. Paul home schooled me once I was old enough, unless he was heading out on a hunt, in which case he would enroll me at whatever school he could in the town we were in. Public school was terrible. I was always the uncomfortable new kid, and I would act out and try to make people laugh just so that they might like me, even for those few short days.

“I never had time to snag a date, or even really talk to a girl. I became used to being alone. I started to convince myself that it was better that way, considering the life that I had.”

“Harry has that same attitude about all of this,” Niall said suddenly.

Louis nodded. “When you lose your family to this life, and spend your free time watching other families being torn apart, it sort of makes up your mind for you. You learn pretty quick that the fewer ties you have to other people, the safer it is for your heart.”

Niall nodded, once again feeling terrible for the two boys. There were probably hundreds of emotionally damaged hunters in the country, all living the same way with the same ideals concerning their happiness.

Louis continued. “The day Harry came along, all gangly and awkward and sad, was the first time I’d ever found myself attracted to a boy. I was completely taken by him, swept off of my feet. It was crazy”

Niall stared at Louis as the brunette made his confession. His small revelation about Harry was a bit surprising, though at the same time not surprising at all. Niall had experienced the exact same feeling when the curly-haired boy had waltzed in to his own life. “Do you still, you know… Do you still have those feelings towards him?” Niall kept his voice even.

The shorter boy laughed. “You don’t have to worry that pretty head of yours. I realized quite quickly back then that I had an entirely different role in Harry’s life. He was special, and yeah he was cute, but he’d come to us with a broken spirit. Paul and I were all he had, and I knew that I needed to care for him like a brother and stitch him back up.” A bird squawked on the roof of the garage. “Though he’ll always be the guy that made me question my sexuality.”

Niall nodded. “So have you explored that further? Any lonely nights on the road-“

“Alright, alright!” Louis cut him off, rubbing his red face with his hands. “You’re embarrassing me. The answer is _sort of_. I may have looked for some company once or twice… maybe three times. But it never really got very far. They were always piss drunk and too handsy. They usually passed out before I even got my rocks off. It was a bit disappointing.”

“Then why not try again?” Niall said encouragingly. “Look for someone who isn’t three sheets to the wind. Find a perfectly good person to get a little crazy with.”

“Says the social butterfly seated beside me. Not everyone has the gift of gab, sweetie. I’m emotionally constipated after growing up with Paul. He was a good father figure, but he lacked compassion. Whenever I get nervous or scared I resort to humor, which makes for really uncomfortable blow jobs, if you could imagine.”

Niall burst out laughing. He reached over and slapped Louis on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find a lay eventually, Louis. Just keep working at it.”

“Trying to steal my boyfriend?”

Louis and Niall jumped, turning to find Harry leaning against the windowsill. His chest was bare, and his hair was still damp from his shower.

“You’re naked, aren’t you?” Louis asked, though it was more of a comment.

“Well spotted,” Harry replied.

“He’s a bit of an exhibitionist, isn’t he?” Niall asked, turning to Louis.

“Oh my God, you haven’t seen anything. I’m surprised he’s kept his clothes on as much as he has!” Louis grumbled.

Niall grinned. “Well then surely you understand the difficulty in abstaining from _that_ , then,” Niall gestured to the tanned and toned young man framed by Louis’ window.

“No, I don’t want to talk about this!” Louis shouted, clamping his hands over his ears.

“Go put some clothes on, Harry,” Niall suggested, shooing his boyfriend. Harry winked at him and stalked off, giving Niall a nice view as he walked away.

“You guys are disgusting.” Louis frowned, uncovering his ears.

“I’m sorry,” Niall sighed, resting his chin in his hand. “I’ve never really had this problem before, but Harry’s just _really_ good at it, you know? He’s practically a professional. Like an _athlete_.”

Louis threw his hands up in the air. “For God’s sake!”

\------

It didn’t take long for something new to come through the wire, and that night Paul called Harry and Niall in to the ‘office’, which was basically a corner of the living room. He told them about a potential case in Illinois in the small town of Aurora, roughly an hour East of Chicago.

“Apparently, men are killing their partners and claiming that they can’t remember a thing,” Paul explained, turning his laptop towards them to display a news article about the latest incident.

“I don’t know, Paul, we don’t really do domestic disputes.” Harry scratched his head.

“Don’t be an idiot. There have been four men in the last three weeks that have brutally beaten their wives to death, but plead their innocence and appear distraught once they’re taken in. Does that not seem weird to you? Aurora has a near pristine record when it comes to murders and violence. For that to escalate that quickly must mean something.”

Harry sighed. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing else to do. We’ll check it out.”

“Oh, don’t look so enthused,” Paul grumbled.

 

Once Harry and Niall’s bags were packed, and before they took off, Harry hugged his brother goodbye. “When are you setting out again?” He asked.

“Probably in a couple of days. I’m going to get on the look out for omens and start from there. Activity has been a little sparse lately,” Louis explained, standing out on the porch with the two of them. “Plus, Paul wants me to spend some time here. Something about needing to relax and ‘get better’,” Louis mocked.

“It’s true, you know. Take care of yourself. And as soon as you get any leads…”

“I will call you like the good little soldier that I am,” Louis finished his sentence. Harry ruffled Louis’ hair. It was hard to tell sometimes that Louis was the older one. Perhaps it was because Harry always took on the role as protector. He always made it his unofficial job to look after everyone, which frustrated Niall a bit. The amount of weight he placed on his own shoulders was staggering.

Harry grabbed Niall’s bag from him and headed down the steps towards the car.

“So chivalrous, isn’t he?” Louis teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Tell me about it,” Niall scoffed, watching as his boyfriend loaded their things in to the trunk. “I’m glad we got to chat a bit while we were here. I’ve liked getting to know you better, and I’m relieved that you don’t hate me.”

Louis pulled Niall in to a one-armed hug. “You’re precious, you know that?” He said, rubbing his back. “Look after him, okay? Don’t let him dig himself too deep of a hole. You haven’t been around long enough to see how much he throws himself in to cases. Make sure he knows when to take a step back. He’ll hate you for it initially, but he’ll thank you for it later.”

Niall frowned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He jogged down the steps.

“Welcome to the family!” Louis shouted over the roar of the engine as Harry started up his baby.

Niall gave him a salute and slid in to the passenger seat.

\------

It took eight hours to get to Aurora, including a couple rest stops along the way. Harry made quick work of finding a cheap motel and got them settled in. He went about his routine seamlessly, paying only with cash, and checking all of the nooks and crannies in the room for anything suspicious. Anyone else would think Harry was paranoid, but Niall knew it came with the job.

“So what now?” Niall asked, seating himself at the end of the bed. The sun was just rising outside. He'd managed a few naps in the car on the way there, but Harry had driven right through the night. Niall knew their job was important, but he worried for Harry's health with the lack of sleep he seemed to be getting.

“Have you got your suit with you?” Harry asked, already seated with his laptop at the small table in the room.

“Um… yes?” Niall raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you best change in to it.”

“And why is that?” When Niall continued to question him, Harry tossed a leather half-fold wallet at him. Niall barely caught it, opening it up to reveal a metal FBI badge and an ID, with Niall’s unmistakable face staring back at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Welcome to the force, Agent Finnegan.”

“ _Finnegan?_ ” Niall frowned, not liking the name on his tongue.

“Sorry. I didn’t want you to have to fake an American accent, so I thought up something authentic.” Harry looked truly apologetic.

“I’m fantastic at accents, I’ll have you know. And _Seamus_? Really? I’m named after a character from Harry Potter!” Niall tossed his badge on the bed.

“Sorry, it was really short notice. I feel terrible. I’ll get Paul to fabricate you a new one once we’re done here. You can have any name you want within reason.” Harry didn’t take his eyes off of his screen.

Niall practically stomped over to the table and effectively distracted Harry by flopping down in his lap, snatching Harry’s own badge off of the table and flipping it open. “ _Edward Sheeran_. What the hell? You sound so distinguished! Fucking _Finnegan_ …”

“Ed was a friend of mine,” Harry took the leather sleeve from Niall’s hand, looking over the name fondly. “He always wanted to impersonate an agent. Thought I’d help grant his wish.”

Niall felt a pang in his heart, his frustration melting away as he looked down at his boyfriend. He slid his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t know. What was he like?”

“He was brilliant. I think you guys would have really got on. He was always so chilled out, like you are. He was a tortured soul like the rest of us but he dealt with it through his music. I'll tell you more some other time.”

“He sounds wonderful,” Niall kissed the top of Harry’s head.

“Now, enough emotional garbage, Agent Finnegan! Get your sweet ass in to your suit!” Harry slapped Niall on the bottom, ending their heartfelt moment abruptly.

“Yes _Sir_ ,” Niall purred, climbing off of Harry’s lap and jogging out to the car.

\------

“This is so illegal!” Niall hissed, tugging at the neck of his white shirt and yanking at his black tie.

“What do you mean?” Harry mused.

They were stood outside of the most recent crime scene, a pretty house on a quiet street. Just like always, it was the most unlikely of places for a murder to happen. It was cookie-cutter living, with friendly neighbors, white picket fences and a good school a stones’ throw away. However, just the night before, a man had brutally beaten and killed his own wife.

“We’re impersonating FBI agents!” Niall continue to whisper-yell as Harry began the march up the stone walkway.

“I’ve been doing this by myself for over five years and you know how many times I’ve been arrested and sent to prison? _None_!” Harry gave Niall a supportive slap on the back. “Now, focus your energy on selling Agent Finnegan to these rent-a-cops and we won’t have a problem.”

Niall sighed and leaned against Harry’s arm as he walked beside him, though he was immediately nudged away.

Niall frowned. “What the-“

“And definitely no touching your work colleague.”

Niall gave a heart-breaking pout.

Harry talked their way on to the crime scene. The tell tale stench of day-old blood was thick, hitting them as soon as they walked in to the house, even though the murder had happened all the way in the living room.

“Oh, God,” Niall breathed, scrunching up his face.

Harry felt sympathy for him. He’d been exposed to so much blood over the years that he was desensitized to it, though for Niall it was completely different.

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

Niall nodded, not saying a word. Harry assumed he was trying not to open his mouth.

“What can I help you with, agents?” A large, round man in a police uniform greeted them at the doorway of the living room. If Harry had done his research right, he was Chief Benson.

“We’re here to look around,” Harry answered coolly. Niall tried not to smile as he listened to Harry’s American accent. It was pretty good, though it was a couple of octaves higher than his normal voice. Regardless, it was sexy as hell.

“Since when is this case federal?” The man asked, looking none too thrilled to be conversing with them.

“Since this town has had four bodies in three weeks, all with the same MO. We’re looking in to if this might be serial.”

“ _Serial_?” The chief scoffed. “I’ve had four bodies, but I’ve also had four different men arrested for them. It might be copycat, but it isn’t serial.”

Harry shrugged. “We’ll see.”

It was at that point that Niall decided it was going to be difficult to work alongside Harry and not jump his bones every five seconds.

They were allowed in to the living room, though what greeted them was alarming. There was blood on every surface. There was spray on the walls, drops on the furniture, and one large oval in the center of the room, no doubt where the body of the most recent victim had fallen.

Harry heard Niall take a sharp breath in. When he looked beside him, his boyfriend was as white as a sheet.

“Never seen a crime scene before, Agent Finnegan?”

Harry turned to see Chief Benson addressing Niall’s demeanor in a rather teasing way. Niall froze, having a deer in the headlights moment. Harry quickly jumped to his rescue.

“Agent Finnegan is pretty new field agent. Before this you were behind a desk, weren’t you, Seamus?”

Niall nodded frantically. “Yeah. Pencil pusher, you could say.” His voice was a bit weak, but he managed a casual shrug.

Once Chief Benson was safely off of his case, Harry stepped around the large bloodstain, examining the room carefully. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for. He had four murdered women, and four men who were waiting in custody, pleading their innocence. What was supernatural about that? “So all of these men have alibis?” He asked.

“One of them claims to have been out of town, one of them was apparently at his sister’s house… This newest guy says he was away on business, but I’ve got witnesses saying he came home last night. It’s strange, but we’re looking in to it. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“And we’ll help,” Harry chimed in, giving the man a strained smile.

Mr. Benson pursed his lips. “I’m sure you will.”

Shortly after, the chief of police excused himself and Niall marched over to Harry’s side, looking around the room warily.

“Why does he seem so hostile? We’re more important than he is, aren’t we?”

Harry chuckled. “I think that’s the point. I’ve had plenty of situations where the local police feel stepped on when I show up. If they only knew who I actually was, they’d kick themselves.”

“Or they’d just shoot you.” Niall snickered, earning a discreet elbow to the ribs. “Do you see anything abnormal?” He asked quietly, eyeing the other officers in the room.

“Not really,” Harry replied. “Then again I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for. Usually it’s pretty obvious if there’s a demon involved, or something ritualistic… But her husband beat her to death. The only abnormal thing is that all of these men are so firmly convinced that they had nothing to do with this.”

“Well then what do we do now?” Niall tugged at his collar again, feeling terribly uncomfortable. The smell of blood was making him feel ill.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to speak to all of them. Let’s go to the station.”

Niall was relieved when they were back out in the fresh air. He took deep breaths as they made their way to the Mustang and climbed in. He immediately loosened his tie and undid his top button, not feeling so claustrophobic.

“I’m going to do the interrogating. Do you think you've had enough practice to spot a liar now?” Harry asked as he stuck the key in the ignition. Niall paused what he was doing and looked over at the brunette in the seat beside him and the teasing grin on his face.

“You are such an asshole!” Niall slapped him. “The only reason I didn’t know you were lying is because you were keeping me so sexually satisfied that I didn’t have the energy to care.”

Harry reached over and pinched his cheek, much to Niall’s annoyance. “Good answer.”

\------

The interrogation was about as successful as they could have hoped. Two of the men were already in jail awaiting trial, so they were only able to speak with the most recent suspects.

The first one, John Goodwin, had a quiet acceptance about him. It was as if he had already come to terms with his guilt, even though he still denied ever laying a hand on his wife. Harry asked straightforward questions, like where he was that night and how he found out about her death. Niall sat quietly beside him, watching the man for any visible signs.

He told them that he was at his sister’s house, fixing her dishwasher. He was a handy guy, and could pretty much do anything. When he got home his door was locked, the house dark. Assuming his wife was in bed, he went to the kitchen for a drink.

He found her tied to a chair, bloody, disfigured and lifeless.

“Who could have done this, if not you?” Harry asked.

They watched as John finally broke.

“I don't know!” He cried, tears rushing to the surface and spilling out on to his cheeks. He brought his hands up and covered his face, his shoulders shaking. “She was so beautiful, and everyone loved her. She was the light of my life.”

They only watched him cry for a moment before they excused themselves, allowing him to be taken back to his holding cell. Harry and Niall took the opportunity and made a run to the coffee machine, ignoring the looks they received from the police officers in the room.

“How are you holding up?” Harry asked softly. He angled his body towards his boyfriend, shielding him from the rest of the station.

Niall heaved a sigh, swirling the terrible coffee in his paper cup. “I'm alright. That was awful, though.”

“I know.” Harry nodded. “Just one more. Then we'll take it from there.”

The second suspect they were able to speak with was named Anthony Brown, and he was still very sensitive, having just been arrested the night before. There was a level of disbelief still present, and every time he stopped too long to think about his situation, he would spiral. Harry knew he had to tread cautiously, because Anthony's wounds were still too fresh.

“Where were you last night?” Harry asked, voice even.

Anthony jumped, as if he were being jolted back in to the room from somewhere else. “I was on the road,” he replied. “I was coming home from a business meeting in Chicago. It's not that far, but I was running late. I called...” He paused. “I called Trisha to let her know I wouldn't make it for dinner, and she told me she'd just heat it up for me when I got home. That was at five. When I finally got home at nine, I - “  
Anthony stopped.

“Mr. Brown?” Harry encouraged, squaring his shoulders.

Niall watched as Anthony lost his composure. It started with a tremble, and then suddenly his entire body was shaking and he was hiding his face in his hands like the man they had interviewed before him. Harry sat back once he realized it had begun, wanting to give the man his space.

“The smell... It was the smell first. It was terrible.” He choked. “I could taste it on my tongue. I dropped my things and went looking for her, knowing that something was wrong. The house was too... It was too quiet. She loved having the television on, just to add some noise in the background when she was home alone. She always watched crime shows. She said it lent some excitement to her cookie-cutter life.”

Niall felt a pang in his chest as the man gave small details about his deceased wife. He'd seen a picture of her, all wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was beautiful, and Niall had seen a happy twinkle in her eyes.

“What did you see when you finally made it to the living room?” Harry pressed on, knowing he had to keep going.

Anthony looked at each of them, frowning. “She was _dead_.”

Harry pursed his lips. “Yes, I know that Mr. Brown, but was there anything else you noticed? Anything suspicious or out of place?”

The air around them shifted.

“I noticed my dead wife, and all of her blood that was sprayed around my living room!” Anthony shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. “I noticed the gash in her head, and the stab wounds in her chest – what more do you want from me?”

“Calm down, Mr. Brown. We only want your cooperation,” Harry soothed, putting his hands up in front of him. Niall was looking at him, a pleading look on his face.

“What do you need my cooperation for?” The man asked, his tone more even. “I've already signed my death warrant. Nothing I say is going to change anything. She was murdered and now I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering if maybe it _was me - “_

Niall couldn't keep his silence any longer as he listened to the agonizing words of the man in front of him. He slid a hand across the table and placed it on Anthony's arm, directing the man's attention to himself.

“Don't beat yourself up over this,” he said calmly. “We are going to find what did this to your wife. Whatever it takes, we're going to give you closure.”

Mr. Brown's eyebrows furrowed. He looked at Niall for a moment, and then looked at Harry. “What does he mean?” He asked. “What does he mean you're going to _find_ _what did this_? I am in jail for murdering my wife – the entire _town_ thinks I've murdered my wife – “

Harry jumped in. “Listen, Mr. Brown, we - “

“No!” He shouted, jerking Niall's hand off of him. “Is this some sick joke? Do you get a rise out of dishing out false hope?”

Niall shrank back. “I'm so sorry - “

“Please, Agent Finnegan, stop talking,” Harry cut in, giving Niall a look that conveyed his message. “Mr. Brown, there has been a miss communication.”

“If you know who killed my wife, and it isn't me, you have to tell me!” He continued to shout, once again slamming his fists on the table. _“What are you hiding?”_

The door behind them suddenly opened and a couple of officers walked in, signaling that their time was up. Mr. Brown was handcuffed and dragged off, repeatedly murmuring about how he _didn't_ kill his own wife.

Harry sighed, rubbing his face. “Well that was terrible.”

Niall cleared his throat. “I'm... I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that, I just couldn't listen to him anymore. He was so destroyed inside.”

Harry placed a comforting hand on Niall's shoulder. “It's alright. Everyone thinks he's mentally unstable, so it won't be hard to chalk it up to his level of crazy if he tells anyone what we said.”

Harry sighed as Niall continued to look grim. He simply wasn't cut out for the world he'd found himself in. Harry had known that, but he'd given it all a shot anyways. He loved having Niall with him, on the road, but with an aura as bright as his, dealing with evil on a regular basis would no doubt be a hard transition. Niall was the embodiment of light and all of the darkness around them was killing him.

“This is harder than I thought it would be. I thought it would be like a game, but it's so much more serious than that.” Niall mumbled.

“I know, babe,” Harry whispered, standing up and dragging the smaller man with him.

“So what did you find out, boys?” Chief Benson boomed as Harry and Niall exited out in to the main office. He had a bit of a smirk on his face.

Harry cleared his throat, straightening his suit professionally. Niall hung back, feeling rather drained.

“We think these men are innocent,” Harry replied cooly.

Mr. Benson raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?” By that point, they had the attention of the entire station.

“We do,” Harry nodded. “And we're going to keep digging in to this. These men have alibis.”

The chief barely avoided rolling his eyes. “Yes, that's all well and true but we've also got eye witness accounts placing these men at home at the time of the respective murders.”

Harry folded his arms across his chest proudly, shifting his weight and jutting out his hip. “Strange, isn't it?” He asked coyly. “Surely a man can't be two places at once.”

\------

 

Though Harry had wanted to avoid it, they had to visit the morgue to have a peak at the latest victim. He wanted to check her body for signs of curses or rituals, and wanted to talk to the coroner about her internals. Before they entered, he turned to Niall, slapping his large hands down on to his shoulders.

“You sure you want to do this? You can stay out here, if you like.”

Niall frowned. “I'm fine. I have to get used to it.”

 _Get used to it_ Harry repeated in his head. Niall had to get _used_ to being in a morgue. Though, no matter how morbid it sounded, it wasn't far from the truth. Harry couldn't even count the amount of times he'd found himself in a cold basement room with a corpse on a slab.

The coroner greeted them and gave them their aprons and gloves, then led them in to the familiar atmosphere of the morgue. Niall remained behind Harry, and the brunette could sense his distress from a mile away. In front of them was a table, with the tell tale shape of a body stretched out beneath a white sheet.

“She looks pretty rough, boys,” the older man said casually. “Up until a few weeks ago I'd never seen this level of violence in all my years doing this. The anger, it's... Well, I'll just show you.”

The sheet was lifted and Niall gasped.

Underneath the cover was nothing like the picture the two boys had seen of the young woman. She looked disfigured, with swelling and lacerations on her face and all over the little bit of body that they could see. Her nose was broken, and possibly one of her cheek bones. There were dark bruises circling her neck from being choked.

“Most of the head trauma was from a blunt object and bare fists. Below the neck was mostly a knife. Whoever did this carved her up like a thanksgiving turkey.”

The sheet was lowered and Harry felt his stomach turn. There was nothing quite like the gruesome image of cleaned up stab wounds. There were gaping slits all along her torso, though none of them were fatal. The attacker had wanted her to bleed out.

“What's this?” Harry asked, pointing to the bruises wrapped around her wrists as well.

“She was restrained.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. It seemed odd to him that she would have been restrained. He assumed that if a husband suddenly went nuts and began to attack his wife, that it would resemble a blitz and be quick and dirty. It would have been a psychotic break for the men in custody, because their lives before that point had been near perfect by all accounts.

However, the body in front of him seemed meticulously destroyed. The blows to the head were violent, though all of the stab wounds were non-fatal. She was restrained during the process, which would take time and a certain level of sadism. It was too crafted and too planned, like a gruesome art project.

One thing Harry was certain of was that it wasn't the husbands of these women that were doing the killing. There was something bigger at play.

“Were these women sexually assaulted?” He asked bluntly.

“I beg your pardon?” The coroner gasped.

Harry turned to him. “I'm curious to know if these women were assaulted during the attack.”

The older man began to struggle for words. “It... It was assumed that it was the husbands that were responsible for these murders. We didn't really see the point in looking in to that area. We had more than enough evidence staring us in the face.”

Harry grimaced. “Well, there's a point _now_. So, if you could, please look in to this. I'll leave my number and you can give me a call if you find anything.”

The coroner appeared a bit exasperated.

Harry turned his attention to Niall, who had been silent during the entire examination. When he glanced back at his boyfriend, his heart sank in to his stomach. Niall's shoulders were slumped as he hugged his body tightly. He looked sickly, white as a sheet as he remained transfixed on the cadaver. Harry could see a slight tremble in his arms.

He quickly stepped in to Niall's line of sight, effectively hiding the body from him. His eyes locked on to Harry's, though he didn't say a word.

“I think we're done here, doctor,” Harry announced. He ripped his gloves off and grabbed the coroner's hand in a firm shake.

He left his number and then ushered his love out of the room, a subtle hand hovering around his lower back. When the heavy door slammed shut behind them, Harry rounded on him. “Are you alright?“

Niall shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “I want to go back to the motel.”

\------

The ride back was quiet, and Niall kept his eyes trained on the scenery out the window.

They remained quiet as they entered their room and locked the door behind them. Niall immediately began tugging at his tie, elbows jerking around as he struggled. Harry couldn't watch him for long before he stepped in, moving in front of him and reaching out.

“No, I'm fine. I can do it myself!” The Irishman said through his teeth, frustrated tears welling in his eyes.

Harry pouted. “Stop, Niall. Just let me help - ”

“I'm not a baby!” Niall shouted suddenly, shoving Harry away from him. “You don't have to coddle me. Just leave me alone.” His voice cracked.

“Babe...” Harry said softly, and as he approached again, Niall didn't fight it. Instead, the tears spilled from his eyes as Niall let Harry pull him in to a hug, his entire body deflating. He sobbed in to his suit, fisting it in his hands. In return Harry said nothing, choosing instead to hold on to him tightly and let him get his frustrations out.

“I can still smell it,” he cried. “I can still smell that house. The blood.”

Harry nodded, pressing a kiss in to his hair. “I know. It lingers for a long time. I've... I've gotten used to it, but it's never easy.”

“There was so much of it.” Niall continued. “S-so much blood, from one small person. And... and her _body_ \- “

“Shh,” Harry soothed. “Try not to think about it.”

“How do I stop?”

As Niall continued to fall apart, Harry made quick work of his neck tie and then moved on to the buttons on his shirt. He untucked the garment and slid it off of Niall's broad shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. He then stepped back, letting Niall finish as he got himself out of his own suit.

Outside, the sun had already set, making the room dark. Harry decided against turning on the light, though, and instead guided Niall towards the bed. Once they were settled under the sheets, Harry pressed himself against his boyfriend's back, sliding his arm around his slim waist.

Niall attempted to shrug him off. “Harry, please. I'm not... I'm not in the mood.”

Harry shushed him again, breathing against the skin of his left shoulder blade. “I'm not asking for anything. I just want to hold you, is that okay?”

They fell in to silence, the only sound being Niall's hiccups as he tried to calm himself down. Harry nuzzled the back of his neck, breathing him in and pressing kisses to his heated skin. It was all he could think to do to try and comfort his boyfriend. He traced patterns on his flat stomach with his fingers.

“What we're doing... Is it really helping?” Niall finally spoke, his voice shot.

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“All of this!” Niall blurted. “The dressing up and the investigating – the _hunting._ Sure, we'll find out what is doing all of this, and we'll get rid of it so that it can't do any more harm. But... What happens then?”

“Niall...” Harry said softly.

“We roll out as soon as we can, a job well done. But there are still lives that have been torn apart. When we're done here in Aurora there will still be four men dealing with the death of their wives and facing a prison sentence. Because no matter what _we_ do, the rest of the world will never believe any of it. Nothing we do will hold up in court, or help any of the people that have already been destroyed by this. We're a bandaid for a bullet wound.”

Harry was quiet as Niall poured out his frustrations. Everything he said was true, and they were things Harry himself though about all the time.

“I'm not sure what answer you'd like me to give you, babe,” Harry mumbled in to his hair.

“I don't want an answer from you. This isn't your fault, and it isn't your problem to fix. I'm just... I'm just upset.” Niall took a deep breath. “The men we talked to today... They lost the loves of their lives.” Niall wiggled around in Harry's arms, rolling over to face him. He placed his hands on Harry's face, looking him in the eye. “All I could think about at that morgue was how I would feel if it were _you_ on that slab. It was suffocating.”

Harry kissed him softly. “I'm not planning on being cold any time soon, I promise. Try not to think about it. Tomorrow, you can stay here while I go out. I want you to pace yourself, and I think you've had enough of this for one case. Plus, I could use a personal researcher to man the laptop while I'm out.”

Niall gave him a small smile. “Are you sure? You won't need me?”

Harry shook his head. “I need you happy and back to your sarcastic, cheeky self. That's all I need.”

 

_Harry could smell blood. He couldn't see much in the dark motel room, but the metallic stench was everywhere. On top of it, though, was the sound of broken sobs coming from somewhere in front of him. He stepped further in to the room, squinting through the inky blackness._

_Then, suddenly, it was there: a figure outlined by the street lights shining in the window on the far wall. A trembling, crying figure tied to a chair._

“ _Niall!” He choked, racing forwards and crouching down in front of him._

_He removed the blindfold that was tied securely around his boyfriend's face, though the reaction he received was not what he had expected. As Niall carefully opened his eyes and looked down in to Harry's, he began to cry harder._

“ _Oh God,” he sobbed._

_Harry gasped. “Ni-”_

“ _Please stop,” He pleaded, his voice hoarse. “Please don't hurt me anymore.”_

 

Harry shot up in bed, his heart beating wildly. He looked around the motel room, expecting to see Niall bruised and bloody, or a demon lurking in a corner, but there was nothing. The plain, tacky room is all that stared back at him.

He looked down at the mattress beside him, relieved to see Niall sleeping soundly. He was curled in on himself slightly, with a spare pillow clutched tightly in his arms. He was alive, content, and un-marked.

Upon looking at his phone, Harry saw that he had only been asleep for a couple of hours. With his nightmare it had felt like an eternity. Knowing that he certainly wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, he climbed out of bed and got dressed, careful not to wake Niall.

Harry felt restless, like he often did after being awoken in the middle of the night. It was why he had dragged Niall out to the field behind Paul's house to watch the sunrise and then taught him how to shoot. He'd disguised it as sappy romance, but in reality is was for Harry's own sanity. Over the years he'd learned to distract himself in order to forget the haunting images from his night terrors.

Checking once more to make sure Niall was alright, Harry grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him. He knew that Niall would be panicked if he woke up and he wasn't there, but he needed air. He needed to clear his mind.

Harry was no stranger to nightmares. Everyone around him knew that, and had even been witness to the severity of them. However, the one he'd just had had been different. He could smell, and feel, and see so much clearer. It didn't seem like a nightmare at all, and if he didn't know better he'd say it was a vision. Like he was living out the most terrible thing he could imagine, which was Niall being hurt, and from the blond's broken words, it was by Harry's own hand. It was preposterous, really, because he would never lay a finger on Niall.

Harry drove until he found a 7-11. It was too early for any decent restaurants to be open, and he wasn't interested in fast food. Instead, he wandered the aisles of the convenience store aimlessly, grabbing muffins, fruit, drinks and Niall's favorite candy.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon when Harry returned to the motel. He hesitated before he opened the door, afraid of what he might find. The images of Niall bloodied and tied to a chair flashed in his mind again as he stepped in to the dark room. However, despite his fear, Niall was still sound asleep, having rolled over and pulled Harry's pillow close to him, his former pillow forgotten. Harry smiled warmly, his heart rate slowing down to a more natural pace at the reaffirmation that his boyfriend was safe.

Niall woke in the midst of Harry's continued effort to keep himself occupied with morning push-ups. He crawled down to the end of the bed and rested his chin on his folded arms, lazily watching the muscles in Harry's back move as he exercised in just his boxer-briefs.

“Can I help you?” Harry breathed, tilting his head to look up at him.

Niall shook his head. “Nah. Just admiring the view. And wondering how I got so lucky.”

Harry snorted with laughter, faltering a bit in his movements. “I got us breakfast. Well, the best I could do for four in the morning.”

Niall craned his neck and looked over at the table, spotting the bags. “Four in the morning? You left?”

“Couldn't sleep,” Harry said quickly.

“Any particular reason?” Niall pried, his eyebrows furrowed. Harry shook his head, finally coming to a stop and climbing to his feet. Niall pushed himself up on to his knees so he was closer to eye level with him. “Harry...”

Harry knew his ability to lie to Niall had dwindled since the fateful night in Arizona. “I just had a dream. It was nothing, but it sort of jarred me. More importantly, how are you feeling?” He asked, carding his fingers through his boyfriend's died blond hair.

Niall rolled his eyes at Harry's aversion to the subject. “I'm fine. Sort of glad I'll be staying here today, though. Not sure I'm cut out to be a fake FBI agent.”

Harry nodded. “It can be hard. But hopefully we'll ease you in to it, because I'd really love for you to be my partner in crime.”

Niall smiled. “Deal.” He wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. He then yanked him forward and they toppled back on to the mattress.

“Shit, give me some warning next time,” Harry said in to Niall's neck as he struggled to get his arms under himself. Niall let out a notorious cackle and pushed him over, straddling his waist and pinning him down. He groaned as the blond began to rock their hips together, creating some delicious friction.

“Do you have time for a quicky, agent?” Niall asked as he pressed kisses to Harry's neck.

“Dear god that was hot,” Harry breathed. “And I'm glad you're feeling better, but I'm afraid I'm a bit too lazy at the moment. Too much effort.”

Niall laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips before crawling down his body, dragging his blunt fingernails across his skin as he went. He hovered over the very obvious bulge in Harry's boxer briefs, staring up at him through his lashes. “Then just leave all the hard work to me.”

\------

Despite some delays, Harry managed to arrive at the police station as the shift change was happening, all the overnight officers getting ready to go home. Chief Benson was in his office, and Harry took a deep breath to steel himself before he entered. He wasn't sure he would have been able to tolerate the older man's attitude that early in the morning after the night he'd had if not for Niall successfully putting him in a wonderful, relaxed mood.

“Agent Sheeran!” The older man greeted, shuffling some papers around on his desk. “Where's your side kick this morning?”

“Good morning, Mr. Benson,” Harry drawled in mock pleasantry. “Agent Finnegan is doing some work back at the motel.” _Also known as sleeping off a mind blowing orgasm._

“Right, right. So how's the investigation going? Made any new discoveries that we missed?” He didn't even try to conceal the sarcasm in his voice.

Harry shrugged. “Sadly, no. But we did get a chance to see the body. I have the coroner checking for any signs of sexual assault, actually. I'm hoping to hear back from him soon.” Forgoing the offered chair, Harry instead leaned against the filing cabinet by the door.

He watched the frown slowly seep on to the old man's face. “Why would you do something like that?”

Harry sighed. “She had marks on her wrists. She was tied down during the beating. The person that did this was meticulous, he took his time. I highly doubt a husband in a blind rage would have taken those measures and been so sadistic. When I found out that the body hadn't been examined for assault, I thought it might be a good idea. Might open some doors.”

“You're wasting resources!” Mr. Benson barked. “We have video surveillance showing Mr. Brown returning home at the time of the murder.”

Harry froze. “Surveillance?”

“Well yes. They lived in one of those high end neighborhoods, with cameras everywhere. There's a camera right outside the house, and he was seen entering his home at exactly the right time to commit the murder. Then he left, and returned some time later, which is when he called us.”

Harry folded his arms across his chest, staring down the chief of police. “When were you going to tell me that you had actual video evidence?” He asked sternly.

Mr. Benson shrugged. “It must have slipped my mind.”

 

Harry was sent to a small room off of the main bull pen, where there were monitors set up to view any video footage that came in as evidence. There was a young man stationed there, his job being to review it for tampering and prepare it in case it was needed in court. He looked young, dressed surprisingly unprofessional in a hoodie and skinny jeans. He had brown curls that flopped lazily on to his forehead, and dimples that put Harry's to shame. The only thing tying him to the police station was the ID badge hanging on a lanyard around his neck.

“My name is Agent Sheeran.” Harry held out his hand for a shake. “It's nice to meet you officer - ?”

“Oh! No... It's just Ashton, I'm not on the force.” The young man said shyly, taking Harry's hand. “I'm a technical analyst.”

“But just as important, I'm sure,” Harry smiled, sitting down in a chair facing the more prominent computer screen.

“I'm... I'm really glad you're here, actually,” Ashton said quietly as he fumbled with a compact disc.

“Oh?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“I just... I think that something weird is going on in my town. With all the murders, and now with this footage - “

“Well let's have a look, then, shall we?” Harry gestured to the screen and Ashton complied, inserting the disk and making a few clicks. They were rewarded when the dark, grainy image of a paved driveway appeared on the screen, along with the front of the house Harry had been in the day before.

“Alright, so this is roughly seven o'clock in the evening outside of the suspect's house. This is what the Chief is putting all of his money on, because we see Mr. Brown arrive home right here.” Ashton pointed, and sure enough the figure of a man strolled up the driveway and right in the front door.

“But doesn't he have a car? Where did he park?” Harry frowned. Surely a man with that kind of money, who had been away on business would pull in to his own driveway.

“Just wait. The most interesting thing is next.” Ashton began to type frantically on his keyboard and with a few mouse clicks the video skipped ahead to roughly an hour and a half later, where Mr. Brown is seen leaving through the front door. Just as he hits the pavement of the driveway, he looks up suddenly, and Harry is left breathless at what he sees.

Mr. Brown's eyes briefly glow, as if they are reflecting light like a cat.

“What... What the fuck was that?” Harry spluttered, desperately reaching to rewind the tape. Ashton politely shoved him away, taking care of the rewinding himself. Once more, they watch 'Mr. Brown' pass by the camera and just like before, his eyes glow a startling white.

“I don't really know how to explain it. The amount of times I've gone through dash cams and dark surveillance tapes, I've never seen something like this. Logic – and the entire police force – says it's a trick of the light, or a glare or something, but... It doesn't seem natural. A human's eyes don't reflect light like that.”

Harry reached up to undo the top button of his shirt and loosen his tie. He rifled through the information in his mind, coming up with only a handful of explanations. He then watched as a big black SUV pulled in to the driveway on the screen, and who he assumed was the real Mr. Brown climbed out and went inside.

 

“Do you think it's a werewolf?” Harry asked in to his phone. He had thanked Ashton for his time and then left the station, heading out to his car so he could call Paul about the recent development.

“ _Well that's silly. Werewolves are only after hearts, they don't mess around and beat the shit out of women. They rip your organs from your chest and leave you be.”_

Harry sighed. “I know that, it's just... His eyes glowed! What other creatures do that? Could it be a demon?”

“ _It has to be something that uses the body as a host because these men were perfectly normal up until this point.”_

“But then it just leaves the host body? Where does it go in between? This makes no sense!” Harry rested his head against the steering wheel. There was silence on the other end of the phone, and he knew that Paul was thinking long and hard, putting all of the information they had together.

“ _What about a shifter?”_ He said finally.

“A shapeshifter?” Harry frowned. “Are you serious?”

“ _They're descendents of werewolves. They take on the shape of whatever they come in contact with. While their ancestors take what they need and leave, shifters are violent and heartless and enjoy the suffering of their prey.”_

“They're so rare, though.”

“ _Since when does rare mean anything to you? You were attacked by a bloody Kistune!”_

Harry couldn't help his chuckle, rubbing gently at the scars ever-present under his dress shirt. “Touché. They killed the same way 'wolves are?”

“ _You betcha. Silver to the heart.”_

Just as Harry ended his conversation with Paul, he got another phone call from the coroner with news that the most recent victim was indeed been sexually assaulted, though the DNA inside the body was like nothing he'd ever seen. The skin sample under her fingernails was that of her husbands, but inside was different. It was apparent that whatever had done it was _wearing Anthony Brown's skin_.

“Well that's just ridiculous.” Chief Benson snapped, examining the report the coroner had faxed in. “How can there be two different DNA samples, one belonging to someone we can't even identify?”

Harry was back to leaning against the filing cabinet, feeling a bit of smug satisfaction at seeing the rather stumped chief of police. “I have no idea. But it means that this case is anything but cut and dry.”

Throwing the papers down on his desk to join the others, Mr. Benson gave him a long, hard look. “Well then you better figure this out and quick before I've got to tape off another crime scene in my own backyard.”

Harry gave him a half-hearted salute as he ducked out of his office. “Don't mind if I do.”

As he was heading across the bull pen back towards the surveillance office, he was suddenly shouldered by a burly police officer, sending him toppling on to the floor.

“Shit, sorry!” He heard a gruff voice say. A hand was extended to him and he grabbed it, allowing the offender to pull him back up on to his feet. He had dirty blond hair and brown eyes, with a very square jaw. “I'm wider than I think sometimes, I guess.”

“Don't worry about it.” Harry shrugged and dusted himself off, continuing on his way.

He stood outside of the office and pulled out his phone.

“ _Hello, agent.”_ He heard Niall purr.

“Please never stop saying that,” Harry grinned.

“ _You wish._ _Any news?”_

“Yes, actually. Paul and I are leaning towards a shapeshifter.” Harry dropped his voice as he glanced around the room to make sure no one was paying attention to him.

“ _A shapeshifter? I think I read about those in Gemma's journal. She didn't have very much in there, though.”_

“Likely. They aren't very well known, but they are nasty things. Do you think you could do some research for me? I know the basics, but I don't want to miss anything important. Cross-reference some legends from different cultures. It's all going to sound ridiculous to you, but a lot of it holds some truth.”

“ _Not much can sound ridiculous to me at this point. Oh, and did you tell Louis to call me, by any chance?”_

Harry thought back to the quick text he'd fired off that morning, asking Louis to subtly check in on Niall for him to see if he was alright but mostly to keep him company. “Maybe.”

“ _Well he's a shit liar saying that he just wanted to call for some 'casual conversation',”_ Niall mocked Louis' Yorkshire accent. _“I'm a big boy. I spent - “_

“Yes, I know, you spent an entire year on your own so you're perfectly capable of doing it now,” Harry interrupted, recounting what Niall had said to him that very morning.

“ _Fuck you.”_

Harry sent Niall his own term of endearment and hung up, heading back in to Ashton's office. The kid had access to all of the surveillance cameras in the town, and it was the only place Harry knew to begin looking for his shifter. He was glad that Ashton liked conspiracy theories, because he had no problem convincing him that something evil was lurking among the people of the town and they had to find it. Ashton had then casually asked if he was one of the Men in Black.

\------

Niall was _bored._

He was sitting against the headboard on the lumpy motel bed, computer in his lap as he researched shape shifters. It seemed that every different culture had their own version of a shifter, and they all had different traits. The most recurring theme was that they could take on the form of any human they made skin-to-skin contact with.

It was all quite creepy.

Niall had eaten all of the food Harry had bought them that morning, including the rest of Harry's share. He knew there would likely be a vending machine on the motel's premises but he wanted a real meal instead of more junk. There was a high chance that Harry would bring something back with him when he finally returned, and Niall was looking forward to it. Sometimes his large appetite was a curse.

He hated that he was once again stuck in a motel room while Harry was off fighting evil. Or, well, reviewing surveillance footage. Niall had had a terrible go of things the day before. First with having to see the crime scene, which was gruesome, and then having to talk to distraught, upset husbands accused of killing their own wives... It was upsetting. Harry powered through it like it was nothing, but Niall was still too sensitive.

The final straw was the morgue. Niall had been witness to several dead bodies the night they took down the nest, but those were all monsters, stripped of their human qualities. But the young woman on the slab in the cold room had been as innocent as her husband was. She had simply had the misfortune of encountering one of the monsters inhabiting the world that no one really knew about.

It broke Niall's heart to think of all the other people that were likely falling victim to other monsters and demons at that very moment.

When he thought about it, though, Niall _had_ slayed his own vampire. He'd fought back and won against a top predator. It had scared the living shit out of him, but Louis had told him he'd done a good job, and that he'd save their lives.

It wasn't going to be pretty, but hunting was something that he needed to do. He would see many more bodies and a lot more blood, but it was something he'd just have to deal with if he was going to be there to support Harry. He would eventually be an asset, not a burden.

 

Niall wasn't sure when he dozed off, but the sun was almost set when he was startled awake by a quick series of knocks on the motel door. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if he'd dreamt it. He checked his phone and saw no new messages from Harry.

When the knocks sounded again, he cautiously rose from the bed and crept over to the door, using the peephole to view who was standing on the other side. He quickly swung the door open. Harry's grinning face beamed back at him.

“Why did you knock?” Niall asked, stepping aside to allow him in.

“I lost my key, if you can believe it.”

Niall looked at both of Harry's hands, seeing a lack of take-away containers. “You didn't bring home food?” He asked dejectedly.

Harry's eyes widened. “Shit, sorry! I guess I'm just having a forgetful day. It's been a long one.”

Niall tugged on Harry's arm and pulled him in, guiding his head down for a kiss. He felt his big hands grasp his hips firmly, pulling their bodies together.

“Can you ever forgive me?” The brunette whispered against Niall's lips.

Niall giggled. “I suppose. You're lucky you're so sexy.”

Harry pulled away and headed for the bathroom, much to Niall's disappointment. “How did it go at the station with the surveillance tapes?” He asked, causing Harry to pause as he was shutting the door. He shrugged.

“We couldn't find anything out of the ordinary.”

As Harry went about his business, Niall flopped back on to the bed. His stomach rumbled and he groaned, stroking it affectionately. “We'll eat soon, I promise...”

Niall's phone suddenly began to buzz on the bedside table, startling him. He scrambled to get to it, though when he looked at the number displayed on the screen, he became confused. “Hello?” He said slowly, rising from the bed again.

“ _Hey, babe! Was just wondering what you wanted for supper? It's your choice.”_

Niall glanced over at the bathroom door and snorted. “Did you really have to call me from the toilet? You couldn't just ask me yourself?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. _“Toilet? What are you talking about? I'm just leaving the station now, I'm in the car.“_

Niall sighed. “Harry, you literally just walked in the door! Don't bother trying to play that little game.” He heard the bathroom door open behind him and he turned, an unimpressed look on his face. Though, when Harry stepped out, there was no phone in his hand.

Niall's heart jumped in to his throat. Cold dread seeped in to his veins as the realization of what was happening sank in.

“ _Niall...”_ Harry's voice was coated in fear. _“Niall, who's in the room with you?”_

The figure in front of Niall moved forward, his familiar face morphing in to a sinister grin. It looked wicked, and unlike any expression he had ever seen on his boyfriend's face.

“Oh, God,” Niall breathed, gripping his phone tightly as he began to tremble. The creature stopped right in front of him, raising a finger to stroke gently at his cheek. Niall shuddered, closing his eyes.

“ _Niall - “_

“Harry, it's here! Help - “ The phone was ripped from his grasp. He could hear Harry screaming for him right before the shifter hung it up and tossed the phone to the floor.

“Well that really didn't go as planned. Seems I'll have to speed things up a bit,” it whispered in to Niall's ear.

Niall could hear Harry, could smell Harry, could _feel_ Harry – But he knew that the thing towering over him was anything but his boyfriend. His fight or flight response kicked in a moment later and he brought his knee up in to the creature's groin, ducking around him and racing to the door.

“Son of a bitch!” He heard it shout. He reached for the door knob, though before he could grasp it, he was grabbed around the middle and thrown to the floor. He gasped in pain as he landed hard on his shoulder. “You're a feisty one, aren't you?” He heard the familiar voice seethe.

Niall scrambled backwards, attempting to put distance between him and his attacker. He connected hard with the wall and knew that he was trapped.

The shapeshifter grabbed him by his hair and wrenched him forward, dragging him to the center of the room. Niall screamed, clawing to try and relieve the pain in his scalp. Strong hands then fisted his t-shirt and lifted him to his feet.

He stood face to face with the doppelganger. He bit his lip to stop the sob that wanted to rip from his throat. He knew how to kill a shapeshifter, but he was completely defenseless. He had no weapons, no silver, and no way out. He continued to tremble as a gentle hand traced his jaw, then slid around to the back of his neck.

“Such a pretty face,” he heard it mumble. It then gripped his neck tightly and shoved him head first in to the floor-length mirror anchored to the wall.

Niall's vision swam as the glass cracked, slicing open his forehead. He crumpled to the floor as warm blood began to trickle down his face. “Why are you doing this?” He wheezed, curling up as tightly as possible against the wall.

He heard a dark chuckle. “Because I can? Because I'm a monster?” The creature crouched down to look Niall in the eye. “It's because I like the struggle. I like to watch the fire go out in your eyes as you realize that you are completely helpless at my hand. It's a power trip!” It boomed.

Niall's head was throbbing. Through the tears welling in his eyes he spotted the lamp above him on the bedside table. As fast as he could he grabbed it, pulling it down and striking the shapeshifter in the head. There was a resounding crack in the room, and a shrill cry as it fell backwards, creating an opening for Niall to attempt another get away. He shot forward on hands and knees, crawling his way towards the door.

Though, again, he was stopped at the last minute, a strong hand wrapping around his ankle tightly and dragging him back. “NO!” He screeched, clawing at the carpet.

He was forced on to his back and a weight settled over his hips as the monster straddled him. “I'm getting a bit tired of you,” it growled, and Niall could see the bleeding cut near it's hairline from the lamp.

He took a punch to the face, his lip splitting open and filling his mouth with blood. He choked as it dripped down his throat.

The hands he was so used to wrapped around his neck and began to squeeze, slowly cutting off his airway. Niall gazed up in to the green eyes that he loved so much, though the look they held was cold and distant. He saw the dimple he liked to poke, and the chocolate curls he'd spent hours running his fingers through framing the face of the most important person in his world.

“Harry,” Niall whispered as his vision began to darken around the edges. His mind felt fuzzy, like an old television stuck in between stations. “Harry, please,” he choked, scratching weakly at the fingers around his neck.

The figure above him smiled, squeezing even tighter. “I'm not your Harry.”

\------

The speed limit meant very little as Harry raced across town, taking side streets to avoid any unnecessary traffic lights. Niall's scared cry for help replayed in his mind like a broken record as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Though there was nothing he could have done, no way he could have known, he still felt the guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. He'd suggested that Niall stay behind that day, had _purposely_ separated them. And to top it off, reviewing the town's camera's with Ashton had been completely useless. He was a great lad, and once Harry had gotten him to loosen up they'd had some laughs, but in the end they'd found no sign of reflecting eyes on any of the footage.

Harry skidded in to the parking lot and parked in front of their room. Wasting no time he jogged around to the trunk, whipping it open and grabbing for his pistol. He fumbled in the dark for his box of specially crafted silver bullets that Paul had helped him with, his hands shaking. Once he was loaded he held the gun at his side and crept towards the motel room door.

As he stepped in to the dark room, the metallic scent of blood triggered flashbacks to the nightmare he'd experienced the night before. It all came rushing back, as Harry found himself living out the exact vision he'd had.

He rushed to Niall's side, tucking his gun in to the back of his trousers. His heart felt like it might burst as he took in the state of his boyfriend's bruised and beaten body. Angry marks wrapped around the column of his neck in the shape of fingers, the neck of his shirt ripped. His forehead was cut up, the dried blood on his face disappearing under the necktie tied around his eyes. He shook softly, small sobs coming from his throat.

“Niall,” Harry called slowly, reaching around to remove the blindfold.

The slumped body in front of him went rigid. Niall opened his eyes carefully, one almost completely swollen shut. As soon as he saw Harry he began to cry harder, pushing himself as far back against the chair as possible. “Oh, God, please don't hurt me again! _Please!_ ”

“Ni, no!” Harry said quickly, grabbing on to Niall's arms as he began to wrestle with his restraints. “It's Harry, Niall. It's me. The real me.”

“Don't touch me!” He began to thrash, and Harry dove to untie his wrists before he hurt himself. As soon as Niall was free he curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. He mumbled something quietly, and Harry leaned in closer.

“What are you saying, Ni?” He asked softly.

“ _It's still here.”_

Harry froze. He suddenly felt it, the unwelcome presence behind him. He reached for the gun in his waistband and turned around, coming face to face with _himself_.

“You interrupted, you know,” the creature said, using his voice. It was stood in the doorway of the bathroom, barely visible in the light from the streetlamps shining in the windows. He could see it's smirk, though, and it only heightened the murderous rage coursing through his veins.

“I'm going to kill you,” he spat.

The shifter raised his arms. “I invite you to try.”

What happened next was a flurry of movement. Harry stepped forward, gun raised. The creature's heightened reflexes allowed it to duck and charge forward, slamming in to Harry's chest before he could react. They both crashed to the floor, the wind forced from Harry's lungs on impact. The gun was knocked from his hand and went skidding out of reach.

He quickly got his bearings and threw the body off of him, scrambling to find his weapon. He didn't get a chance, though, before he was hauled to his feet and slammed back against the wall. His head connected sharply, lights bursting behind his eyes as the room began to spin. An arm was pressed tightly to his neck, making it difficult to breathe. He looked up in to his own eyes, staring at the same face he'd stared at in the mirror his entire life.

“I don't know _how_ you got my skin,” Harry hissed.

“Oh! Don't you?” The creature grinned. “ _I'm wider than I think sometimes, I guess._ ” It mocked in a rough American accent. Harry suddenly remembered the police officer that had bumped in to him back at the station.

He felt stupid.

“Who did you think you were fooling with that whole FBI stunt, hm?” It chuckled. “I've been doing this way too long. I knew you were hunters. It was a piece of cake to follow you back here yesterday, and as luck would have it, you left your little partner alone and defenseless! You wouldn't believe the surprise at seeing you stroll in this morning alone.” It leaned in closer to his face. “I mean, let's be honest, he's the weaker of the two of you.”

“Shut up!” Harry hissed, trying desperately to remove the arm from his neck. The shapeshifter only pressed harder, causing him to choke. He began to feel light headed, his vision dimming. “Why do you do it? Kill innocent people with the face of the ones they care about?”

He saw the monster grin. “Easy. I like that moment when I have them cornered and you see all the hope and all of the trust drain from their eyes when they realize that the person they love most is going to kill them.”

Harry grimaced.

“I'm going to kill you now,” the shapeshifter whispered, keeping him pinned to the wall. “And then I'm going to go finish what I started with your little boy toy over there, and when I'm done I'm going to kill him too!”

“No!” Harry croaked. “ _Niall_!” He could feel it. He could feel the tingling in his fingers as the oxygen dwindled. The room spun, and he knew he was on the edge. He was seconds away from blacking out, leaving Niall in the hands of the shapeshifter.

Just as his eyes began to roll, however, an ear-piercing crack rang through the room. The pressure on his neck was instantly gone and Harry could do nothing else but crumple to the floor with his new found freedom. He choked and gasped, drinking in oxygen as he slumped against the wall. His ears were ringing, making it difficult to hear.

He managed to look up at the monster still standing before him. It's eyes were wide and unseeing, arms hanging limp at it's sides. With a bit of difficulty, it twisted around to look over it's shoulder, and Harry's eyes caught sight of the blossoming dark stain on it's suit jacket. He then squinted, seeing Niall standing on the other side of the room. The blond's arms were raised in front of him, and in his cradled hands was Harry's gun.

Without a word the shapeshifter dropped, nothing but a dead weight.

Harry heard the gun's safety click on and then a thud as it was tossed on to the floor. He blinked up and saw Niall crossing the room towards him, though he moved cautiously.

“Ni - “

“Are you him? Are you the right Harry?” Niall muttered, his voice weak. As he got closer Harry could see the tremors running through his abused body.

“I am,” Harry nodded slowly, still a bit dazed from his brush with being strangled. His entire body felt fuzzy as it soaked up all the oxygen it could get after being deprived.

“How... How do I know?” Niall continued, stopping when he was stood directly in front of the look-alike's corpse. He refused to look at it, though, and instead held eye contact with Harry.

“Niall, it's _me_ \- “

“What you say means nothing!” Niall was close to shouting. “I couldn't,” his voice cracked, and Harry could hearhis tears. “I couldn't even tell the first time. What makes _now_ any different?”

Harry unfolded his awkward limbs and used the wall to help get to his feet, Niall taking a simultaneous step back. He kept a guarded look on his face. Harry steadied himself as he stood at his full height, blinking away his dizziness. He raised an arm, gesturing for Niall to come forward. “Come 'ere, Irish.”

Niall's shoulders immediately relaxed as he recognized the silly nickname Harry had given him before he'd even known his name. He stumbled forward and in to Harry's arms, pressing his face in to his neck. His shoulders shook as he broke down in to tears, and all Harry could do was hold him.

 

The comforting was short lived as Harry bundled Niall in to the car. He made quick work of their things, finishing off by tossing the sheet-wrapped body of the shapeshifter in to the trunk to hide the evidence. How he managed it without raising any suspicion at the motel was beyond him. He believed he'd found the shadiest of all shady motels.

They pulled out of the parking lot just as the police pulled in.

A few miles outside of Aurora Harry burned the body, Niall choosing to remain in the car. As he watched the corpse dissolve in to flames, Harry wondered how long it would take to move forward from the events of the previous two days. It had been Niall's first real 'case', and it had gone horribly wrong.

Niall was strong, though, that he was sure of. He didn't doubt the blond's coping abilities, though there was something in his eyes that night that told Harry it would take more than a good night's sleep to erase the memories of the monster that had masqueraded as his boyfriend and beat the shit out of him.

Harry clenched his fists in his coat pockets.

The eight hour drive back to Sioux Falls was quiet. Niall had chosen to sleep for most of it, or pretended to sleep to avoid talking. Harry tried not to think about how uncomfortable he looked as he curled up in the reclined passenger seat. He looked like he was shielding himself; as if he were trying to hide.

They made a pit stop at a service station somewhere outside of Lexington and Niall took the time to dab some of the blood off of his face while Harry guarded the bathroom door from the outside. They both ignored the odd stares from the cashier as they bought something to fill their stomachs before getting back on the road.

They never once mentioned anything that had happened that night. Harry decided to leave it, but knew that it had to be addressed eventually, and sooner rather than later.

\-----

They arrived back at Paul's house a little after four in the morning. The place was dark and quiet, but an immense relief to both of them.

Harry dumped their things beside the door as they stepped in to the kitchen. Before he could say anything, Niall made a b-line for the living room, likely headed upstairs to his room. Harry quickly reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. Niall whipped around and looked at him, alarm bells going off behind his eyes.

“I'm sorry, just... I should properly clean you up,” Harry said quietly, releasing his grip. He couldn't stop staring at Niall's black eye, or his split lip. The bruises around his pale neck mocked Harry, reminding him of all that he hadn't been able to stop from happening.

Niall shook his head. “No, it's alright. I'm just going to go to bed.”

He turned around again and Harry became desperate. “Niall, please! Let me help you. Just sit with me and let me fix you up.”

Somehow he agreed, and Harry sat him down in a kitchen chair as he retrieved the 'Higgins-Tomlinson-Styles Trusty First-Aid Kit'. It was Louis' old Spiderman lunch pale, decorated with stickers of other superheroes and also an odd one of a unicorn. Harry sat opposite Niall, and with a warm, damp cloth he gently wiped all traces of blood off of his face. Niall was silent as Harry went about his task, though he held eye contact. It was another intimate moment between them, with no words, only touch and the looks on their faces. It felt comfortable.

Harry worked diligently, dabbing his lip with rubbing alcohol and placing some butterfly stitches over the slice in Niall's forehead. He remembered all of the times he'd sat in that very chair while Paul played nurse to him and Louis. He'd been a grown sixteen-year-old at the time, but Paul had insisted that he let him patch him up so it didn't get worse. Louis was always fussy about it, shoving Paul off of him whenever he was stung by the peroxide. Harry, though, just let himself be cleaned up, using the time to think over all the places he'd went wrong during the hunt to better himself for the next time.

He'd been so serious back then.

When he was finished with Niall he took his face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He heard Niall sigh.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“You already asked me that,” the blond mumbled.

“I did.” Harry nodded. “And I'm going to keep asking until I believe the answer you give me.”

Niall huffed. “Well then believe that I am _fine!_ ” He pouted. “I'm... I'm shaken up a bit. And I'm tired, and I'm unsettled, but I'm _fine_.”

“You did good last night,” Harry smiled, trying for a bit of levity. “It was a nice shot for a newbie like yourself.”

Niall's face soured and he looked at his lap. “I shot _you,_ Harry. Even if it wasn't actually you, I still pulled the trigger on something that looked and smelled and sounded exactly like you. And it looked at me with this face... This terrible, betrayed face. And for a moment I believed that I'd gotten the wrong one. I thought I'd killed _you_.”

Harry's eyes widened. It suddenly made sense. It wasn't the attack that had hurt Niall, or the wounds that he'd received. What had truly affected him was having to kill something that had looked like Harry.

He pulled Niall in to a hug. “You didn't kill me.”

“I know,” Niall sniffed, hugging him back. “But it looked like I did.”

It was at that moment that they were both startled by a half-asleep Louis stumbling in to the kitchen, a shotgun raised. Niall flinched and Harry made a sound in his throat that he wasn't entirely proud of.

“Jesus Christ, Louis!” He shouted, standing up and positioning himself in front of Niall.

Louis blinked at both of them for a moment. “Shit, sorry!” He lowered the weapon. “What the fuck are you two doing here at four thirty in the fucking morning?” Louis snapped, leaning the gun against the wall and wandering over to them.

“We finished in Aurora and came home, what does it look like?” Harry gestured to the first aid kit and Niall, who lowered his head to try and hide his face. “And stop your swearing!”

Louis rolled his eyes and stalked over to the two of them, leaning down so he could look at Niall. He winced when he saw the damage, and ruffled Niall's hair affectionately. He then straightened and looked over Harry, seeing the light bruising around his throat. He grabbed his head and felt around his scalp for any abnormalities, forcing Harry to stand uncomfortably hunched over to make up for his brother's lack of height.

“Where's Paul?” Harry asked when Louis was finished.

The shorter boy shrugged. “He made a booty call in town again.”

Harry screwed up his face and Niall chuckled beside him, the first one he'd uttered in almost twenty four hours. Leave it to Louis to finally be the ray of light Niall needed to get back to his usual self.

“Too much information, Lou,” Harry grimaced.

“What? You know he makes house calls to that woman's place every so often. The man goes through enough shit with the two of us, let him have his fun!” Louis folded his arms across his chest.

“I know, it's just... I don't need to know what Paul does in his personal time!” Harry whined.

“Yeah, well, I don't need to know what you two do either, so kindly keep two feet between you at all times.” Louis pointed at each of them.

By that point Niall was full on laughing, the sound filling the kitchen.

Having next to no food in the house, Louis offered to go get them all some breakfast. When he was gone, Harry forced Niall to go sit in the living room while he cleaned up the first-aid kit. He made them both some hot chocolate, forgoing the coffee so that they could hopefully get some rest. Harry was _exhausted_.

As he was retrieving two mugs from the cupboard, he thought he felt a small tremor in the house. He froze, glancing around to see if he'd imagined it. He shook his head and continued to his task, pouring hot water in to each mug. However, seconds later there was another jolt, rattling all of the dishes in the room. Harry stepped away from the counter as the shaking continued, watching the two mugs eventually shake right off of the counter and crash to the floor, shattering in to pieces.

“Harry?” Niall called. “What's happening?”

Harry attempted to get to the living room, the tremors becoming so violent he thought the house might split in two. He clutched the door frame tightly and looked in to see Niall huddled in to the back of the couch. Around the room all of the picture frames and keepsakes were falling from the walls. On the mantel, the framed photo of Harry's family wobbled towards the edge and ultimately dropped to the floor.

The room began to grow brighter, though not from the outside. The light had no source, and along with it came a deafening shrill ringing noise. The shaking, light, and ringing escalated and escalated until Harry was knocked to his knees, hands over his ears.

“Close your eyes, Niall!” He yelled, clamping his own shut.

“Harry!” He heard a yell.

Just as he thought the onslaught might never end, it was over. The room grew dark again, and the sudden silence was deafening. The house stopped it's constant movement, though Harry still felt it as if he were on a ship, feeling the ebb and flow of the waves. He opened his eyes and climbed to his feet, a bit unsteady.

“Niall?” He asked, though as he turned towards the couch he noticed the strange figure blocking his way.

It looked like a man, and he was stood facing away from him. He wore a leather jacket, the hem of a white shirt visible beneath it. He had dark jeans on, and black boots. His hair, from the back, was cropped close to his head on the sides, the top left a bit longer. The guy was staring down at Niall, who was still huddled on the couch, a slightly panicked look on his face.

Harry's first thought was that it was a demon. He'd never seen one make such an entrance, but everything about the being in front of him screamed bad news. He took a step towards it, spewing the familiar words for an exorcism.

“ _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potesta - “_

The tall being turned suddenly, a look of wonder on it's face. It didn't appear at all affected by Harry's words. It didn't growl, or flinch or show any reaction to the Latin at all. Instead, it calmly raised it's hand, and with a blast of an invisible force Harry was thrown backwards in to the living room wall and pinned there, unable to move.

“Harry!” He heard Niall cry.

The creature walked slowly towards Harry, every movement like smooth liquid. It's face didn't appear threatening, and the large, brown eyes looked so _human._ It could have been a regular person if not for the immense power Harry knew was coursing through it's veins.

“Who are you?” He gasped, struggling to free himself from his invisible bonds.

The creature tilted it's head ever so slightly, looking at Harry as if it were looking in to his soul. “I am Liamandriel,” it said, voice like silk. “I am an angel of heaven.”

 

 


End file.
